Judgement Day
by Luna Manar
Summary: An old FF8 fanfic I wrote 2 years ago, could be considered a prequel to "In Love and War." Squall makes a tactical error that costs lives, and this single mistake may rob from him one of the things he holds most dear.
1. The Felony

**Note**

This fanfic is OLD. It is not my top form, but is among the few "completed" chapter fics I've written. Enjoy.

Judgement Day

by Luna Manar

The Felony

_"It's our nature…there is no real reason."_

            "Dragons?"

            Staring steadfastly into the distance where the scratchy, guttural roars had allegedly originated, Squall waited in silence for a few moments before nodding once in answer to Rinoa's question. "Sounded like it." 

            Rinoa clung to him briefly. She didn't like dragons, and the sound of one was almost worse than the sight. "That wasn't in the direction of the Gardens…was it?"

            "I can't tell. It was too far away." Squall squeezed her shoulder in brief reassurance, started toward the edge of the wooded plateau, hoping he might see far enough to spot the two behemoth bases of SeeD that hovered on the outskirts of Esthar's borders. Rinoa followed close behind, though she'd composed herself by now and no longer cowered next to him. The view wasn't helpful; other, much taller forested plateaus blocked the sight of the Gardens and the dragon ships that guarded them. The gentle morning sun and twittering of numerous birds did little to ease Squall's conscience. "We should go back."

            Rinoa's brow knitted in skepticism. "Are you sure? They could just be wild ones."

            Squall made a vague jerking motion with his arm. "That's the third time we've heard them in two hours, and those are rubies. They don't live wild around here. I don't like it." He didn't add that Galbadia always seemed to launch an attack every time he left the area. Twice already, Rinoa and Squall had tried to complete this personal mission; twice, they'd returned on Squall's premonitions to find the Gardens fighting another skirmish with the Galbadians.

            Not for the first time, Rinoa reflected on the foolishness of the war itself. Ultimecia had been defeated. There was no more sorceress threat; _Rinoa _certainly wished no one harm! But still the Galbadians pursued their relentless suit of vengeance against Esthar. They were no longer proclaiming their saviorship of the world via absolute unity (peace through world domination), rather they sang their own hero's song about saving the world from Esthar's oppression (peace through superior firepower).Their claim was that Esthar was a danger to the world, with its xenophobic history and reclusive ways. No one believed their public harping, save for themselves, and though Esthar, technologically, had little to fear from Galbadia, it still caused a diplomatic and economic problem for the country, which, under President Laguna's tutelage, had by a wide majority voted to pursue trade relations with the rest of the world—including Galbadia, if they would have it.

            But no—no trade, just war. Rinoa frowned in irritation. So senseless… Why did Galbadia continue to make a nuisance of itself?

            "We can't just keep turning back every time you get a bad feeling about what's going on down there. This is the third time."

            "I haven't been wrong about it yet." Squall narrowed his eyes as he said this, as though he could see through the great cliffs if he tried hard enough. 

            "Squall, Esthar's got Garden and SeeD to protect it. They can take care of themselves." Rinoa looked sullen for a moment, but said nothing else. She wanted to believe that the Gardens were safe, and knew even if they were not, they were certainly able to hold their own. But she knew better than to continue arguing with Squall's almost infallible danger-sense. Somehow—whether it could be considered a gift or a curse was not clear—he always seemed to know when something wasn't right. "It's going to take us just as long to get back," she muttered blankly. It wasn't an argument, merely a statement of the obvious made in both frustration and disappointment. 

            For the first time in the past few minutes, Squall averted his eyes from the brightening horizon and focused them on what he considered far more beautiful. The hardened expression faltered a little at her look of dismay. "I'm sorry…I know this whole thing keeps getting screwed up."

            "Squall…I'm afraid they know…when you're there and when you're not." She watched him as he started walking along the edge of the cliff, searching for a passable way down. "The second you show up, they'll be on you again."

            The SeeD's boot tested the stability of a rather steep, but negotiable incline. "Yeah…" His voice held a snarling edge; clearly the truth of her warning frustrated him. "I know." Carefully, he tried his balance on the steep hill. "I'm sure they'd love to get me out of their way permanently." Steadying himself, he put a hand on his hip and glanced behind him at Rinoa. 

            She shook her head and amended quietly, a hint of fear tracing her eyes. "Or to get their hands on you."

            "Galbadia hasn't caught me yet. If I have anything to do with it, it's gonna stay that way." He blinked deliberately, watching her watch him. When at last he spoke again, it was with the grim resolution characteristic of him. "I can't just keep walking in the other direction when I know something's happened." _You know that…_ "It's my responsibility…" More quietly, "You know my first loyalty is to you…but I do have one to Garden, too. If you tell me to ignore it and keep going…I will. But I don't think you'd do that." He added after a pause, "Am I right?" 

            "…Yes." Rinoa hung her head a little. Apprehensively, she clasped her hands together behind her, toyed at the grass with the toe of her shoe. "I wish we could do something to stop this whole thing…this stupid war that everyone keeps saying isn't a war. If people are fighting and dying, then it's a war. I just hate it."

            Stepping up onto the flat of the plateau once more, Squall took her right hand in his left, gently tilted her chin up with the other so he could look her in the eyes. "You're not the only one." And truly, if it could be done right there and then, Squall would have given almost anything to silence the guns and shouts and screams that seemed a recurrent, if intermittent reality between SeeD and Galbadia. As much as he had lived for battle, he did not want to exist for it. War was not what the Gardens or SeeD stood for. Still, he could not ignore them when and where he was needed. "At least we made it through the night, this time.." He brushed back a strand of black hair from her eyes. "A war can't last forever." He managed a solemn smile. 

            "I just wish I understood—" She tilted her cheek into his hand, "—what they really want in the first place…right now there doesn't even seem to be a reason…it's just _senseless._" 

            "We'll think of something…" It was the only response Squall could give her, lacking any true words of comfort. His voice quieted, "Standing here worrying about it isn't helping." He seemed almost apologetic. "We have to go." 

            "What happens if there's fighting when we get there? You don't have any weapon…except magic, but…you know."

            This brought a brief smile from his taut lips he pointed at her meaningfully. "Don't underestimate me." _I didn't train my whole life at Garden for nothing. "_Besides, you'll be with me. We'll be fine." It was true the two were safest when they were together. Though it was clear Squall was certainly no master of magic as Rinoa was, nor was he a mere novice, and—magic or no—time and again he'd proven himself quite deadly even without his trademark gunblade. Though this by no means made him immortal, he'd managed to appear that way on more than one occasion. It was a combination of skill, determination and luck—a concept Squall stubbornly denied. The same went for Rinoa. _And Zell, Quistis, Matron, _he'd reminded himself time and again. _All of us… _

            Galbadia knew this. They knew who had killed Ultimecia. It was part of their vengeance claim that the leaders of SeeD be handed over for execution. No such luck, of course. Plus, they couldn't kill him. Not now…

            And what neither Garden nor Galbadia knew, for now, wouldn't hurt them.

            Squall and Rinoa had come to this place—a single cliff called Soul's Frontier—twice before. Once, to find it. The second time, they had turned back when Galbadia's Navy had launched an assault on the border. This time, they had stayed, for a full night, and the ritual had been completed, the irreversible connections set and locked. Their souls were joined, and they were stronger…

            Stronger, and ready to fight once more as a team.

Only recently had Rinoa agreed to use her powers to help fight Galbadia. Still, she refused to resort to _attacking_ anything or anyone, unless she had to, and focused mostly on defending SeeD's own fighters—most importantly Squall. Always, she kept a distance, never actually ventured onto the field, and had done her part from one of many hidden vantage points of Balamb Garden. So far, she had harmed no one. So far.

Only recently had she shown any willingness to use her magic and Guardians to any such destructive ends. Only recently had it become obvious what a powerful force she and Squall together had the potential to be.

All this power only frightened her. She wasn't sure she wanted it, but didn't see that she had much choice. Then again, if she hadn't retained so many of Ultimecia's powers, she and Squall could not have accomplished the intimate link they had—that only they knew about. It was a strength they both now shared. And, as Cid had pointed out to her months ago (how ironic, since he had not known), better the unwilling to possess such wonderful, dangerous and deadly power than the uncaring, who would fail to use it wisely. 

Yet, despite all these uncertainties, Rinoa could not help agreeing, "True…it isn't likely for _us _to get 'caught,' is it?" She smiled a little.

His answer was a brief, but strong embrace, and thoughts shared between them in the space of moments served to reassure them. Squall turned back to the steep ledge. "It's steep. I can make it down without falling…you think you can? If you don't want to we can go back around the way we came." He augmented his words with a demonstrative sweep of his arm in the direction of the forest they had picked through in order to get to the ledge they now stood on. "This way's more direct, though." He let his arm down, thoughtfully put that hand on his hip and looked down in the direction of the incline once more.

"I can make it if you help me, I'm sure."

_You know I will._

A horrible sound echoed though the wind, prompting them to turn their attention swiftly to the horizon they had been watching moments ago. At first, both thought the sound to be a great explosion. Realization struck home that it was a bestial roar. 

Squall's eyes narrowed. He didn't recognize the sound, though it had a familiar edge to it. "Someone's Guardian Force?" He and Rinoa glanced at each other, not needing any magical bond to understand the circumstances. If SeeD was in enough trouble to have implement the use of Guardians, it was all the more reason to return as fast as was possible. They heard another roar from the same creature. 

Wordlessly, they wasted no more time in making a hurried, if stumbling journey down the steep hill. Loose dirt and rocks nearly made Rinoa's feet slip out from under her twice, and the third time she slipped, she slid painfully down a ways before Squall caught her and hauled her back to her feet. Twice this was repeated before the bottom of the incline was actually reached. By that time, Rinoa had sufficiently dirtied the back of her outfit, sustained a number of scrapes and bruises. She'd slid the last six feet to the ground, and picked herself up, brushing her soft blue arm wraps off as best she could. 

Squall followed close behind her, sliding skillfully to the ground, uninjured and relatively un-dusty. 

Clasping her hands behind her back, Rinoa cast him a playful scowl, watching him jump easily to the base of the hill. "Sometimes you make me sick, you know that?"

He didn't smile, but she felt his mood brighten a little. "Can't say I haven't been punished for it." He rubbed at his left wrist, where Rinoa had suffered a rough scrape. "I'm gonna have to teach you a few things for _my _sake." He looked over his shoulder at her. "Like how to keep your balance." He chose the direction in which he'd seen an animal trail from above, started walking. 

There was another distant boom, clearly an explosion this time. Rinoa caught up with him. They both picked up the pace to a near-run, pushing through the wiry foliage, in the process getting dusted with early spring pollen from the many conifer trees whose branches they had to disturb in order to press on. Though it hardly seemed to bother Squall, the rain of pollen annoyed his less agile companion. "What is _happening _over there?" She was busy brushing the bright yellow stuff from her hair, all the while trying to keep up, while Squall answered.

"It sounds like they're—" He vaulted himself over a fallen tree, "—blowing up a lot of stuff."

Rinoa rolled her eyes and scrabbled over the dead tree. "_I _could have told you that." She knew what he meant, though: He didn't know any more than she did what was going on at the border. They'd have to get there to see. 

Unfortunately, even at their rigorous pace, they were yet a day's travel from their home. 

The horrid noises of battle boomed on into the night, and ceased only as Squall and Rinoa stopped, exhausted, allowing them rest in an eerie silence. No night birds sang, no insects whirred or chirped. The quiet was no less unsettling than the noise had been. 

They had to stop, for Rinoa was beyond herself with exhaustion. Squall, too, was tired, and though he churned from within from an urgent need to keep moving, he would not ask Rinoa to go any further. He decided to listen to the tired part of his brain and told the nagging end to shove it.

They found a small clearing, graced on one end by the base of a half-uprooted tree. The hollow beneath it served for a haggard place to stay, but Squall seemed comfortable enough with sitting up against the wall of the hollow. Being partial to more hospitable places, Rinoa managed to make a nice enough pillow of Squall's shoulder, a blanket of his arm. The image may have been romantic, but sleep would be wakeful and uneasy. They both worried at the uncomfortable silence that surrounded them. Sometime in the middle of that uncertain darkness, a single night bird warbled a mournful song that fell on deaf, sleeping ears. 

"We're getting close…"

Rinoa's comment was unnecessary; the fighting had started again that morning, and was growing louder and clearer with every few yards. It was not the noise that had awakened them, however. The ugly stench of heavy smoke had caused Squall to shiver awake and shake his head to clear his senses. Only minutes later he and Rinoa were on the move again. It was nearly midday now beneath heavy clouds, the scent of rain on a foreshadowing breeze that grew in intensity every minute promised a spring storm within the hour. 

_We should be able to see it after this hill. _Squall's face was stone, and Rinoa sensed him bracing himself for whatever terrible sight might greet him once he topped the tall hill he'd already started climbing. She started after him. 

Rinoa frowned. Squall was scared. It was fear, now, more than need for efficiency, that drove him nimbly to the top of the hill. She had hardly started the climb when he'd scaled the bank completely, and watched him disappear over the top. Only a second later she felt his heart sink, and her own spirit recoiled in terrible anguish. She whimpered a little, but forced herself to her senses, and hurried, trembling to join him and see what had happened.

When she reached the top, at first all she saw was Squall standing at the edge of another steep incline, looking out over some spectacle. The wind blew his hair like the remnants of a dark, torn war banner, shredded into short wisps and ribbons at the base by the claws of despair. Then she looked beyond him, and knew the source of his shock.

The area was indeed a battlefield, worse than had been seen in any of the skirmishes and squabbles that had taxed both sides in the recent past. Even from their high vantage, blood was visible on the ground, and certainly not all of it belonged to the Galbadians. The mangled corpse of one ruby dragon, no doubt that they'd heard only the previous day, lay to the side of the battle. Judging by the trail of black blood, it had either been dragged out of the way by the Galbadians or had hauled itself there to die, away from the noise. Many fighters lay in similar fashions both on and away from the field, where a war still raged. No side seemed to be winning, but the toll was horrible all the same. Worst of all was what had shocked Squall to his core, and now sent him sinking slowly to a crouch, supporting himself from falling to his knees with one hand against the ground. It was a motion Rinoa almost copied when she felt his dizziness, brought on by his grief.

Galbadia Garden, largest of the Gardens, lay tilted on its side, the left edge of the great construction's anti-gravity halo driven like a bent and crooked buzz saw into the muddy ground. The entire side of the Garden was charred black from the wrath of an oil-fed fire. Huge pieces of debris littered the surrounding area—the Garden had put up a fight before falling, and had struck the ground in many places, effectively tearing itself to pieces until it could stay airborne no longer. The lighting in the stronghold had vanished; it appeared dead. Save for a few SeeDs and Estharian soldiers protecting it, it seemed abandoned completely. So where _were _its inhabitants? 

The only facial indication of Squall's sadness and disbelief was his slightly open mouth. Torrents of emotions and thoughts suddenly assaulted his mind, and Rinoa almost put her hands to her ears at the intensity of them, as though they were screaming all around her. _What have I done? Nothing. So what's happened? Galbadia Garden is destroyed, I didn't get back here fast enough. Maybe we shouldn't have left in the first place—but how could we have known? Where's Cid? Damn, he probably wonders where the hell I've been!. If he's alive. No, he has to be. What can I do? Where's Zell? Where's Quistis? I can't see them out there. I could take full responsibility for this. I wasn't here when I should have been. Goddamn it, this could cost me my job—and at what price? How many people that I know have died already? Could I have done anything? Can't think about it now. Right now, I have to _do _something. I have to stop this before it gets any worse! _He glanced at Rinoa as he stood, realized she'd heard everything that had passed through his mind, and nodded just slightly before taking off down the steep side of the hill. 

She started to go after him but thought better of it, stopped herself just before she heard his thoughts in her mind.

_Eyes on Me, Rinoa. _

With a nod of understanding, she knelt on one knee, and watched from her place on the hill. A metallic, vicious shriek echoed across the skies, and thin strings of white lightning crawled along the gathering clouds. The shriek sounded again, but Rinoa didn't look around to see where it came from. It wasn't important. She kept her eyes trained on Squall as he moved swiftly, crouched low and being as stealthy as possible, heading toward the fray. She felt a sudden rise of anger, of absolute, unadulterated rage. It built up within her, and it wasn't her own. This fury was stronger than she'd ever known fury could be, and for a moment she faltered and almost lost sight of Squall. Only half of this feeling was Squall's anger. This hatred bore no prejudice, did not care what it destroyed. It was just _angry. _

She watched Squall crouch behind a huge slab of fallen debris, watched him close his eyes, and belatedly realized just what it was he was doing. She shivered.

The wind picked up.

There was a power crackling in the air as the storm gathered overhead, and the shrieks—they must have been from the storm itself—caused many to pause in their fighting, some at the expense of their lives. But the battle slowed, and the sky fell into a deathly silence, the wind that had been rising all but stopped. 

Recognizing these signs, realizing what was about to happen, the forces of SeeD abruptly retreated, the dragonships backed away, all abandoning the Galbadians on the field. The bewildered soldiers shouted and signaled to one another, not at all understanding this sudden show of fear. For a pompous, self-absorbed moment, the Galbadians believed they had forced SeeD into retreat. 

Then the wind began to twist and beat along the ground like the rush of giant wings or the pulse of a planetary heart. The terrible shriek, louder and more heart-shaking than thunder, sounded again from the skies. Galbadians and SeeDs alike stared up into the clouds, the latter party from beneath the shelter of Balamb Garden's spinning rings. The Garden came about, taking up a defensive posture over its precious troops.

Perhaps the Galbadians would have ordered a retreat as well, except they were staring transfixed at the black heavens that began to swirl above them. Thick fingers of lightning collected their energies at a central point, and the sky seemed to boil, the built-up energy broke in all directions as it was speared through the center, shattered amidst the vibrations of another unearthly shriek. The massive beast that had only just pierced the heart of the storm snapped open its armored wings, stopping itself in mid-dive. 

The spectacle was so magnificent, the fear it caused so great, most of the Galbadians were too petrified to flee. Those who had sense enough to do so were by no means swift enough in their retreat. 

Bahamut hovered where he was, the maelstrom beginning to turn about the land, the sheer power of his presence fueling the spring rain, slowly yet too swiftly transforming it into a hurricane that he didn't care enough to control. The King of Guardians surveyed his targets, made note of those SeeDs and Estharians that were not to be harmed, and searched: for what had given the Galbadians advantage in this fight. _Find it, _he had been told, _and destroy it. _

He had felt the fall of many of his brethren. Whatever it was that had caused this devastation, it had disabled Quetzalcoatlus, a lesser Guardian, in a single blast, numerous others in two or three. It had torn apart a gigantic Garden in a matter of minutes. Only one type of weapon had such power, one that he knew had not been used in millennia, not since the Centra. He knew, as well, through the same warrior that had called him, that Galbadia had once had access to Centra technology. A cowardly use for it, if they had implemented it in this surprise assault. The Galbadians had no brains. World domination indeed. Scattered in their confusion, the pitiful imbeciles did not know what they fought for. 

So, then, nor would they know what they died for!

Bahamut made his decision. Let the damned fools run. He would deal with them in his own time. He pumped his wings harder, brought himself higher. His jaws opened, the pure energy of destruction began to build, stealing from the storm around him and amassing before his fanged maw. Swiftly, the orb of power became more and more concentrated, and shimmered like a deadly star before the head of the dragon's tensing body. The shrill whine of the force being pulled from all the surrounding matter was deafening. Once the shrieking stopped, there was hardly pause enough to comprehend what was imminent. 

Like a finger of God, the beam of light raced downward and struck the ground, the destructive wave following in its wake and spreading throughout the battlefield. The shockwave of the blast tore a crater in the earth, spreading outward in all directions, a widening circle of annihilation.

The dragon was on the move again before his circle of wrath had fully dispersed. He shot like a lance after the fleeing army, miniature versions of the weapon that had obliterated the battlefield raining down with deadly accuracy upon men and weapons. The first machine to be destroyed was the potent energy cannon that rendered the powers of Guardian Forces useless. What a cheap excuse for victory. _He _would not be struck down by _that. _

Something shot at him from below, missed him, and the turret did not have time to retrain its aim before Bahamut had swiveled around and dived for the vehicle, pulling up and landing atop it with crushing force. Latching onto the metal with claws that ripped through steel as easily as they would have flesh, he forcibly tore the big gun from its pivot, taking a man with it, dropping them carelessly as he ascended into the sky once again. 

The dragon surveyed his work. The Galbadians were in a state of hysteria and fear, their weapons for the mostpart destroyed, their ranks decimated. His fiery green eyes flared and narrowed. The hint of Centra power in the area was gone. His work here was done.

As the hurricane began to twist, Bahamut vanished into the raging storm. 

The first person Squall found that he knew well was Xu, and he startled her from behind, though he hadn't meant to, took her by the shoulder and shouted over the howling wind, "Galbadia Garden! Is there anyone still in there?"

Confused for only a moment, Xu collected herself. "Twenty. They're a salvage team—"

"_Get them out of there!" _

"Why?"

"Just do it!" Squall didn't feel like explaining himself. _In case. _In case they couldn't stop this storm that Bahamut had created; it would soon be powerful enough to tear the wrecked Garden to pieces. In case anything else went wrong. Whatever. He was angry beyond what he cared to consider. But he wasn't scared. Not anymore.

Without another word, he left the group crowded beneath the Garden Still Standing, heading for the edge of the field, to the edge of Bahamut's swathe of destruction. The rain was beginning to pour, but it came in sideways, sliced like thousands of tiny, cold knives into his skin. He slowed his pace in it and walked through sheet after sheet of water. He began to encounter bodies on the ground, stepped over one, then another, not daring to try and recognize any of them. He reached what he loosely estimated to be the center of this realm of death, numbly glanced around him, though he could see little through the stinging rain. Lightning showed him only how many dead. How many didn't have to die? How many wouldn't have if he had gotten there fast enough? He'd thought of Galbadia as an annoyance, not a serious threat any longer. They were a petty and weak-willed government. How could they have done all this—? It didn't matter. What mattered was it had happened.

Whether he actually lost his strength, or he just let himself do it, he stumbled and nearly crumpled, managing to steady somewhat and lower himself to a crouch, resting his arms across his knees. For a moment, he surveyed the dead rain, and wondered who—if anyone—was really responsible for all this? Galbadia's new ruler was a dimwit. Was it just a terrible stroke of luck? 

His head bowed, he closed his eyes. Rain ran in small rivers down his face, fell from his eyes, chin and the lips of his half-open mouth. Panting exhaustion in the torrent of water and grief, he tossed soaking hair out of his face, then forgot about the rain, forgot about the cold, the death, the sorrow. He let his will go, surrendered himself to she who he could only hope might be able to use him to right what had gone wrong. If he could just fix _some _of it, undo at least _something _of what had been done…perhaps he could find the heart to figure out just what had really happened here to begin with.

_Rinoa…_

In this unheard of state of complete and utter submission, the magic of a sorceress took hold, coursed through him, wrapped around him, an invisible blanket of power that would show itself in due time. He felt his own strength, his own power being pulled from him, tilted his head back to stare into nothing through closed eyes. His mind fell back into a trance of an odd sort of serenity, that which would come upon a person who knows nothing more than he is. He was aware, his body breathed, his heart beat, and there was no other requirement of him.

In this reverie of strange ecstasy, Squall was unable to think. It wasn't his place to question. Without words, without voice, without will, in the mud, with the rain roaring unnoticed around him, amidst dead soldiers he didn't know, he was a center point of power for Her, channeling magic he didn't understand, nor did he try to. Yet through this certainty, somewhere in the corner of his mind, the only part remaining that kept him conscious, the only part of him that was aware of what was happening to him and around him, his will remained, dormant, trapped forever in the loving embrace of a sorceress that would hold him for all eternity.

From the heavens came another scream.

No one could say if the heat dried up the storm or if the flames of life had simply banished the rains of death. The tempest turned from black-grey and blue to golden orange and amber, the light reflecting off the bottom of the clouds, red aura turning the water to life-giving blood. The melodious cry that echoed through the chaos beckoned peace. Boundless warmth—not burning heat—drove away ruthless cold. The rain fell still, but in a gentle downpour, straight down from brightening clouds to soothe the ravaged battlefield. Golden orange feathers passed once over the figures of the deceased, the broken. Then the beautiful creature was gone and in her wake, light returned from the darkness of the sky, and from the ground a few heads raised, eyes blinked in confusion. Previously battered bodies picked themselves up, checked themselves in bewilderment for fatal wounds that no longer existed. They stood within a flaming tattoo on the earth, the avian likeness of the elusive Guardian Force that had saved them.

Twenty of nearly one hundred lost got up and walked away from what had been their unfair deaths. 

Had they been less hysterical about the fact they'd so escaped fate, had they paid more heed to their surroundings, they might have seen Rinoa fold her wings away and let her hands down from their raised position, might have seen her start her way down the hill. They might have noticed Squall keel over in utter exhaustion, and had they seen him, might have mistaken him for dead, all color drained from his face, breaths so faint they were hardly noticeable. Had they seen Rinoa come to her love, and kneel by him on what was now dry ground, if they'd seen her sit beside him and pull him up enough to cradle him against her shoulder, they wouldn't have thought twice of it. They were too busy walking in an astonished stupor toward Balamb Garden, too absorbed in the fact they were alive to care that the person they thought of as their leader was half-dead. They did not know, so cared nothing that it would take only a day for him to fully recuperate.

They did not care, and so did not notice the crime that had been committed. The thunder receded into the distance.


	2. Prisoners

***Note***  
There is a BIG spoiler in this fic for "The Dying of the Light"...it _won't_ ruin the whole story, but it will reveal something that happens after chapter 5--which is as far as I've posted it, so far. Anyway, there's my warning. Read at your own risk.  
  


Prison

__

"Prisoner of the things I've done,

it's the price you pay for livin' fast and wild…"

Those who did care found them later, after the revived had returned home. Rinoa had not moved, Squall had not awakened. They seemed frozen in time. 

When Laguna knelt enough to place a concerned hand on Rinoa's shoulder, she was responsive enough, looked at him with eyes he wouldn't forget from that day forth, eyes that begged forgiveness of a sin he couldn't begin to understand. He gave her his smile-that-would-forgive-anything, said something to someone over his shoulder. Rinoa didn't know who it was, and she didn't particularly care at the moment. Somehow, between that time and the next hour, she let Laguna take up the unconscious SeeD in his arms to carry to the infirmary. She vaguely remembered telling him something about not letting Squall find out he'd ever been carried in such a fashion, vaguely remembered Laguna saying something back to her that made her laugh a little. She barely remembered fainting halfway through the walk to the infirmary. She remembered nothing after that, up until the point she'd reawakened, here, in her—Squall's—room. For a bleary-eyed moment, she wondered if it all hadn't been some crazy dream. 

Someone came and kneeled at the side of the bed, and her senses came back to her in a painful headrush. Whether it was Squall's stability that woke her up so completely or her concern for him alone, did not matter. She opened her eyes the rest of the way and struggled to sit up, only to be eased back down by his hand on her shoulder. "Stay down." His command was gentle, but wouldn't be argued with. "Don't get up too fast. You'll black out. I did the same thing." 

__

Indeed, as he said this, she felt suddenly very light-headed, and fell back into the pillow more from her own lack of strength than the pressure of his hand. When she regained her senses _again, _she opened her eyes, focused on him, but did not try to sit up this time. "…What time is it," she asked weakly, "and what day, so I know exactly why I'm so hungry?"

This made him smile slightly, if only for a moment, and he brushed her windswept hair affectionately back over her shoulder and out of her face. "Almost five in the afternoon, the day after." He didn't need to specify the day after _what. _"You slept longer than I did." 

"Oh…" She again tried to sit up, very slowly, and managed to do so without seeing spots in her vision. She felt as through she had lead weights attached to her limbs. 

He answered her unspoken, but well thought question, "I'm fine."

She nodded, staring at him. Already she was beginning to feel through his relief for her having regained consciousness, to the secondary anxiety on his mind. Biting her lower lip in her own worry, she leaned forward and hugged him gently, felt him sigh. She closed her eyes. "We're in trouble, aren't we?" 

He pulled back to look her in the eyes again, nodded slightly. "Yeah," he responded solemnly. "Yeah, we are." 

"Squall, I'm sorry. If I hadn't insisted on—"

"No—" He put his hand gently over her mouth before she could utter another word. "Don't. Don't…regret _anything._" He took his hand away. "We knew it would come to this eventually. We just…" He motioned vaguely with the same hand to nothing in particular. "We just didn't think it would happen like _this._" 

"Little inconvenience, there." Rinoa sneered. 

Squall looked off to the side. "Cid's pretty pissed off. Not much we can do about it." 

"Did…" Rinoa chanced to glance down at herself, to find she was wearing little save undergarments, and in a short wave of self-consciousness pulled the covers up a little, before remembering there was only one person in the room with her, around whom she was quite comfortable now. "Did they take us both…"

"No." Squall smiled a little at her nervousness. "I brought you here. I woke up this morning. They let me…take you to your room." He tilted his head a little to the side. "This secret is slipping…but if it makes you feel better, no one from the infirmary undressed you." He smiled again, mock-cringed when she reached out to mess up his hair.

"I'll remember that. And I guess because you got up first, that's why you're all cleaned up and I'm still nasty?"

"I've been up for four hours. Do the math." 

She smiled briefly, but the action was a weak defense against worry. "What do we do now?"

His smile faded, too. "Nothing." 

"Nothing?"

"Right…" Rinoa watched his eyebrows raise slightly as he remembered something. "Oh, yeah." He turned around halfway, snatched something up off the nightstand. He handed Rinoa two small, greenish round tablets. "Take these." He stood up once she'd taken them from him, walked over to the window, looking out on a clear, bright day.

"What are they?" Rinoa sneered at the little chewables.

"I don't know. Something to help with the dizziness, I think." Squall folded his arms, then gave a short, voiceless laugh. "Tell you what, though—they taste like shit." 

Rinoa's scowl deepened. "Thanks for the incentive. Did Kadowaki make you take them?"

"Yeah—only she didn't warn me about the taste." 

"That's it. I'm getting water. I'm not chewing these things." She started to get up, but Squall stopped her with a thought.

"Don't get up," he repeated aloud, turning around and heading toward the bathroom to the sink. "I'll get it."

"Gee, you're nice all of a sudden."

"Not really." Squall had to search around for a minute before he found the sink cup—under the sink in the cabinet, where it should have been. No doubt Rinoa had put it there some days ago. _Neat nick, _he thought absently, said aloud, "If you get up now, you'll fall flat on your face."

Rinoa crossed her arms. "I would not, and I _heard _that!"

"Whatever." He was already on his way back with the cup of water in hand, trying to keep himself from smiling at her. There were days he enjoyed giving her a hard time. "Here." 

She took the cup from him with a withering glare, followed by a wry smile to show she was playing, too. 

Despite this third attempt at brightening the mood of the room, neither of them felt any better, and the foul (thankfully brief) taste of the pills didn't help Rinoa hide a frown. "So, what… Does Cid know about us?"

"Probably." 

"What do you think he'll do?"

Squall shook his head, backed up a few steps to lean against the wall. "I don't know…but that's not the problem. The problem is what happened out there. I acted without orders, and a lot of people got killed...there's a big probability that…that I could be discharged because of it. And if they find out about you and I...well, that clinches it."

Slowly, almost haltingly, Rinoa set the half-empty cup on the nightstand, staring fearfully at him. "Just because you're the sorceress's knight?"

"Because of that, my prime allegiance is to you…not to SeeD. You know that puts a big dent in my credibility, technically." He folded his arms, closed his eyes thoughtfully. "I don't know, it may not turn out that way."

"But Garden and SeeD are what you've worked for your whole _life. _They wouldn't just discard you like that, would they?"

Squall said nothing, but his answer was too clear to her. _If they thought I was a danger, then they would. And if they did, I couldn't take you with me._

"But if Galbadia knew you were on your own, then…" Rinoa shook her head at the idea. "I'd go with you whether they liked it or not. But we could end up being tracked down. We'd have nowhere to go."

"If they discharged me, they'd do it knowing that. Maybe even favoring it."

She scowled. "I find it hard to believe that Cid would ever be that cold."

"I said 'if.'" 

__

You didn't mean _"if." _Sighing, Rinoa pouted where she was for a moment. Again she noticed her empty stomach. "One way or another, I'm going to get cleaned up. I'm not staying all dirty like this. Can we go down to the cafeteria after I do that? I'm starving…"

Squall again closed his eyes. "_You _can."

This sour piece of information was enough to make Rinoa raise her voice. "They're making you _stay _here?"

"What _else _are they going to do?" He unfolded one arm for long enough to make a sharp sweeping motion with it. "Rinoa, look what's just happened. The battlefield and the Galbadians got fried because _I _called Bahamut, and people who were dead got brought back because of _us. _It might sound good for us, for Esthar, but the point is I showed part of how much damage I can _really _do, I did it without thinking about the consequences, and on top of that we've made it clear that we're more than we used to be. A lot more. …And there are still a lot of people who didn't come back from that fight. What we have isn't _wrong, _and we might not have even done anything wrong, but it makes things…" He searched for a word.

"Complicated," Rinoa finished for him, quietly. "I think I see what you mean." _…I didn't think Phoenix would…I didn't think it would be her._

That might have been my fault…

Did you—?

I might have. "I don't remember clearly." Squall straightened a little against the wall; he'd unconsciously sunken against it in his dismay. "I…remember wishing something, like…" He put a hand to his forehead. _Think, damnit… _"You…" His voice calmed, quieted suddenly, and he let his hand down by his side, again sank a little against the wall. This time it was more in memory of the moment than from the weight of his heart. 

Rinoa smiled at him as she might at a young child who had asked her why the sky was blue. Then her face hardened, and she shook it in accompaniment with her confusion. "No one should be able to _summon _Phoenix. No one. But from what I could tell, we did. Maybe _you _did, and I just guided the power. You did once…when we were fighting Ultimecia, you called her." She ignored the shaking of his head, as though he refused to believe he had done what she said he had. "You _did. _I watched you."

__

I was in agony, I was probably muttering nonsense to myself. 

"Then how do _you _explain what happened?" She watched him calmly. "Coincidence? You think she just _found _us in that place without someone showing her where we were? Squall…" She begged him mentally to look at her again, and he did. "You had a reason, and the reason was valid. That time and this time. You can't command her, but you _can _call on her. If she answers or not, that's her choice…but from the moment she saw you, she called you her 'child of fate.' And now that we have this…this link, I guess…all I meant to do was dissipate the storm…and look what happened." Rinoa's bangs wavered across her forehead as she tilted her head to one side, peering up at him. "That would make four times she's appeared to you…and those around you. Once, after the shumi leader's gift, again in Bahamut's cave, again in Ultimecia's realm. Now here. No history tells of her appearing to anyone more than twice."

Squall straightened again, sighed. "So you're saying she's using this…this knight thing to work through us? I don't know how I could have done something like that. I can't sense her, I can't talk to her like I can with my other Guardians. It's like she isn't there. It isn't even something I can think about. I know she 'chose' us, or whatever. But I don't know what that means. I thought she meant all of us who were fighting Ultimecia. I thought she just meant she would help us. And there's no way I could have had any part in calling her yesterday without _you_."

"If I'd completely taken you over, you couldn't have, either, and I'm not 'saying' anything."

This brought about a long, uneasy silence, and though both knew the other's feelings, neither actually spoke or thought to each other for some time.

"Fine. So what if I did call her? It's not only me. We both did it. We can do a lot of things…"

Rinoa's voice became solemn, even a little sorrowful. "But since we can do so much, it puts _your _entire career on the line."

"If it came down to a choice between you and the career, I'd ditch the career in a second," Squall said darkly, pacing to the edge of the bed, stopping, folding his arms, unfolding them again, lowering his gaze to stare distantly down at the tiny patterns on the dark blue comforter and slowly reaching down to touch a symbol at the corner of the mattress that the little designs surrounded: A circle with two vertical branches on opposite ends, one half of it black and the other white, surrounded by an intricate black, blue and gold nimbus and backed by a dark asterisk that speared the entire emblem with numerous thin, black rays. _The colors…the realities of black and white working together…everything in between, good and bad, strong and weak, if it's all woven together just right…there has to be a way I can…there has to be something I can say! _"…but I don't _want _to leave." Slowly, he took his hand away from the SeeD insignia, though he continued to stare at it as though he could find some answer to his problem in its pattern. 

"More than that," Rinoa supplied quietly. She watched him sit down on the edge of the bed, his pensive gaze fixed on the distant wall. "Part of you would die if you couldn't be a SeeD. It's too much a part of you to just let go of. It would be like losing a limb." She hated to remind him of that, but she wanted him to hear—even if he already knew—that she understood just how much it meant to him. _A lame lion can't last for very long. Not without becoming dangerous to society. _Rinoa shook away the thought.

Squall had already heard it. "I wouldn't become _psychotic _or anything."

"I know." Rinoa shook her head. "But it would keep you from doing what you needed to…and with your power, and mine, you would eventually be considered dangerous by somebody…not only would you have Galbadia hunting you, you might have other countries, too. Or We would. So what then? We go somewhere that no one knows of and hide out for the rest of our lives?"

"Romantic, but _you _would go crazy." He took his eyes from the wall and directed them over his shoulder at her. "But what can I say when Cid calls me to his office to tell me his decision, if I'm cooped up here the whole time? I understand we've confused a lot of people, but…unless he lets me make some sort of statement before he makes a decision…I don't see what we can do."

__

We're going on the assumption that you're going to be discharged. "You said it might not happen."

"I said there was a big possibility it would."

"_How _big?"

"I don't know!" Squall quickly lowered his voice. He hadn't meant to shout. "…I just know the chances of staying here aren't good. I don't know _how _bad it is. But if they're going completely by the book…" He barely lifted his eyes enough to give her eye contact. _There's no way. _"It's an imperative requirement that a SeeD devotes his or her entire life to their job." 

"But you _would!_" Rinoa protested. "It's not any less important to you. Probably _more _than it used to be."

He looked away from her. "My life is yours, not—"

"You _soul _is mine…" She turned a little pink at her own words. She hadn't meant to sound so sinister. Perhaps she hadn't, but she hadn't liked her own wording. "…You know your life is yours to live," she amended gently. "I'm not taking that away from you—I'm not taking _anything _from you, if I can help it. You're still you, and he doesn't have any right to judge that. I'm not controlling you."

"He doesn't know that. He _can't _assume that." Though he stopped talking, Rinoa said nothing in response, for he was preparing to speak again. She waited for almost a minute before he did, softly. "Why don't you get dressed and stuff and go get something to eat. I've gotta think for a while…"

She balked inwardly at this idea._ I don't want to go anywhere without you. I don't want anyone to look at me. I hate being judged. _The thoughts were inadvertent, but did not escape Squall.

"You don't have to go alone. I asked Zell if he'd hang around in case you wanted to go somewhere. He said he'd be in his room because he's working on something, anyway, so… If you survive walking five doors down the hall…" He smirked.

"You don't have to make fun of me." Rinoa stuck her tongue out at him.

"Better me than anyone else…which won't happen, because Zell's got my permission to deck anyone who tries."

Rinoa laughed. "Which I'm sure he'd have fun doing. Okay, I'll go…but not looking like this." Carefully, making sure she didn't suffer the flat-on-face fate that Squall had prophesized earlier, she got up and made her unsteady way toward the bathroom. 

Squall watched her over his shoulder, debated with himself and lost to the more mischievous side. "Why? You look just fine to me." He smiled and cringed as he received the inevitable light smack to the back of the head. He smiled wider and dared to look again as Rinoa scolded him.

"You're terrible. Go back to thinking."

He laughed to himself, watching her disappear behind the door. "Don't worry about that," he returned in all seriousness. 


	3. The Verdict

The Verdict

__

"Judge not he who has followed his own instincts;

lay punishment only to innocents, who commit no crime 

and have done so against the will of their hearts."

The evening of the following day, the elevator doors opened and Squall stepped alone out into the long hallway that led to the headmaster's new office—really just a re-furnished, utterly transformed B level that NORG had once occupied. The decoration was familiar; as it had been before the Garden had revealed its airworthiness, the place favored dark blue and burgundy, and new designs in a deep red-brown wallpaper, lined in a goldenrod color, marched along the edges and corners. The lighting was brighter than when NORG had resided there, and although the path to the main chambers was no less high-walled and intimidating, it was alight with a hearty brightness that had never been present before. It all looked very comely, very cozy and comfortable for such a giant hallway. One would almost expect the corridor to lead to a large den with a fireplace and any number of sitting areas.

Squall was the last thing from comfortable, and he felt almost as though the décor was scorning him, saying not "this is where you live" as it would to so many other people, but "this is what you could lose." He tried not to look at it all, tried not to let the coziness gnaw at his uncertainties, but it was of little use. Still he did not sulk; he kept his shoulders square, his face impassive and posture steady as he stopped before the doors to Cid's office. There was no "doorbell" to ring; a person's simple presence before the entrance would sound a buzzer inside to alert the headmaster he had company. 

What surprised Squall was that Cid actually met him at the door, rather than opening it from the panel at his desk as he generally did.

The shorter, stout headmaster adjusted his glasses a little and nodded to Squall, stepping aside the door and motioning toward the rest of the room. "Come in, Squall, please."

Squall did so (he did not salute; to do so would have been pointless), and his tensions rose even as he crossed the border between the hallway and the office. The door slid shut behind him and he did not look back, simply walked with Cid to the center of the room where both of them stopped and faced each other; neither made any motion to sit down. 

"That was quite a day, wasn't it?" Cid folded his hands behind his back and looked Squall in the face. The headmaster stood back far enough so he did not have to tilt his head back much to do this, but he was close enough that Squall did not feel he was speaking from across the room. He nodded in response, forcing himself to make eye contact. 

Cid waited a moment to be sure that was all the answer that would be given before he continued. "One of the marks of a commanding SeeD is the ability to make responsible decisions. Squall Leonhart, your decisions as of late have been very questionable. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, sir." Squall knew this was not a query to which he could offer a silent response. 

"First, your unannounced departure from the Garden to goodness-knows where, and then some very impetuous demonstrations in battle tactics."

"Sir, none of our people were harmed by Baha—"

"Do _not _interrupt me, Squall."

Squall shut his mouth. He hadn't even intended to talk out of turn—it had just come out. Was Cid right? _Was _he not thinking things out before acting? Perhaps so, maybe more often than he'd realized…

"I will credit you, Squall, with the victory of that battle, and with the lives of twenty of our officers and senior students. For that, I'm certain, everyone is grateful to you…" The headmaster paused and watched Squall's face for any trace of reaction. "…and Rinoa."

Whether it was evident to the headmaster or not, Squall's entire body tensed with apprehension. He did not answer. He did not know what answer he could give.

"In light of the evidence given, Squall Leonhart, I must ask you a question and you _must _answer it truthfully and directly." Cid sighed and took a fairly deep breath, as though he himself had to prepare for the results of what he would say next. "Is SeeD and its cause your _first and foremost_ priority?"

Squall's gaze wavered, but he managed to keep himself from looking away. "…No." His voice was quiet, but seemed to echo against walls that condemned him from all sides.

The headmaster nodded slowly, and a sad smile touched his worn features. "Here is another such question: Are you Sorceress Rinoa's knight?"

Squall had to take a breath to steady himself enough to answer. "Yes." His apprehension was choking him; a hint of the terrible fear that dwelled in him leaked through his mask and creased his scarred brow, tainted his voice. He refused to look away. " I am."

Cid stared at him for a moment with that awful small, sympathetic smile for a few seconds. "So it is," he said finally in a softly released breath Squall had not realized the headmaster had been holding. Cid turned away and walked a few steps toward the window, then stopped, staring out over the cold, barren deserts of Esthar's borders.

Squall's hopes all but shattered. Cid himself had admitted that he only turned his back on things he was frightened of facing. Or people. 

"I am not without sympathy," Cid said to Squall, the Window. His words pulled at Squall's gut; he'd heard that sentence before, a year ago, when Seifer had been disciplined for disobeying orders. The SeeD's control quavered. Did Cid think him no better? But the headmaster went on, oblivious to Squall's internal quakes. "You have worked very hard to get where you are, and I shudder at the very notion of taking from you what you have striven for your entire life. However…" Finally the headmaster turned to face Squall again. His own face seemed composed and expressionless as he could make it. His voice became so gentle, it pierced Squall's heart like a blade. "Given the current circumstances, I cannot allow you to remain in this line of work."

Squall attempted to remain still and silent, but could not contain a soundless cry that escaped in the form of a sigh through barely open lips. He felt his face falter and his lower jaw tremble, but snapped his mouth shut, biting his tongue in the process, to force himself not to make a noise. Still, surely the headmaster saw the blue eyes shimmer in the brief moment before Squall had reined himself in again. 

"This has been a very difficult decision for me," Cid went on in that same gentle, stabbing tone, "and a lonely one, for I am one of the very few people who understand exactly what your position entails." He was _not _referring to the position of a top-rank SeeD. "It is necessary that I consider that for _your _sake, as well as Garden's. The sorceress's knight is a great responsibility, and on top of its implications, no such person should have to bear the added burden of a rank-A SeeD commander. And it has always been the policy of this institution that our officers and students learn to face the consequences of their choices." 

Squall could no longer look at Cid without loosing himself, and lowered his gaze to avoid letting the headmaster see his grief, though he knew it must be obvious merely by this action alone.

"I congratulate you on your many achievements, Squall." The speech was relentless. "You have always been a good student. Your performance in your schooling, as a SeeD and a leader have been beyond exemplary. You've saved many lives, and were the leader of the mission to battle Ultimecia. Most people believe you to be the one who truly defeated her, and of those people I am one. And I am happy for your…knighthood."

Squall closed his eyes and remained still and silent as stone.

"But I regret there are other factors that cannot be worked around at the moment. Only two days ago, Galbadia _officially _declared war on SeeD and Esthar and any that bear allegiance to us." 

Again that terrible word. _Allegiance... _

"Although Galbadia has also suffered massive losses, we need every able person we have to help out, as it is obvious that they now have access to Centra technology. To send you away would not be to relieve you of the fighting. You would be involved in it anyway." Cid spoke that last word quickly, as though he wanted to be rid of it. "Therefore, even if I wanted to, I cannot afford to discharge you at this time. I also cannot simply remove you from our conferences; your contributions and experience are _invaluable._" The last word of this sentence he drew out. "It is my decision that for now, you be demoted to rank 2-6—that still makes you the highest ranking SeeD currently living. You will still command our offensive efforts and continue to participate in conferences held between SeeD, and President Laguna and his associates. Your presence is a source of morale that people desperately need in these times. Whether you realize it or not, you and Griever, the Leonhart emblem, which I have made every effort to keep personal to _you, _and away from any public banner, are a symbol of spirit for both SeeD and Esthar. As a fighter, you are the most powerful asset we have, and in that position you _are _a born leader."

__

A born leader, Squall could not help thinking bitterly, _or a born pawn? _

"You have been reminded of that many times, but in the long run, it is my belief that you do not belong in the seat you have been occupying." For the moment, the headmaster stopped, watched Squall quietly. The once-commander had paled, his head was tilted slightly downward and he looked off sightlessly to his left. "Essentially, Squall, you will retain your duties and remain at your current assignment. I do this at great risk. As you are, you are a potential danger to this organization. Yet, in any case…when this war is over, supposing you have performed acceptably and are alive at that point in time, I will expect you to quietly pack your bags and leave this premises."

Squall closed his eyes again and a tremble escaped him. Even having prepared for it, he could hardly believe this possible. If he was to be discharged, why not do so right away? Why keep him to use as a tool until he'd outlived his worth? Why let him fight when he knew he was doomed to lose, whether or not the war was won? Was SeeD truly no different than Galbadia in its workings? Was it just prettied up with gems promising respect, self-discipline, and the allowance to be an individual? Or was it really just a place where people trained to become powerful weapons to be used at the military's disposal?

"…on a six-month vacation." 

Squall's thoughts went blank, and he ceased to feel anything but confusion. He blinked slowly, replaying the past few seconds in his head, and for the first time in minutes, looked up and stared at Headmaster Cid, his entire face pulled up in utter bewilderment. He wasn't certain he'd heard properly at all. After a short eternity, he managed to implement enough motor control to stammer with a slight shake of his head, "S…sir?"

At this entire display of shock, Cid smiled his familiar, warm smile, and actually chuckled ever so slightly as he answered. "At that time, your current position will be defunct. You will have no ability to make _administrative _command decisions, therefore all long-term directives must go through _me _before you may put them into operation. You will still be considered our military commander. Also the rank entitles you to a six-month leave of absence once every two years, or, if you wish, taken in sections at your leisure during those two years, provided you schedule them and circumstances allow. The issue of your loyalty to Garden will keep you from ever attaining rank A again…that's mostly so I can put in the book that I have done my job. But in all honesty, Squall, my trust in you is not in question. You've been planning to become Rinoa's knight for some time…almost a month, am I right?"

Squall nodded dumbly.

"Whether or not anyone else noticed, I was wondering about it…I've been keeping an eye on you for about that long. I couldn't be sure, of course, but I suspected…but you have carried the transition well, and have not allowed it to interfere with your duties…_too _much. I have _no _fear of Rinoa turning against SeeD for any reason, as much as you mean to her, and as much as she is our ally. If nothing else, she would be more dedicated to us because of you." He bent slightly and readjusted his glasses again, peering at Squall in amusement. "But! I wasn't toying with you in any way in anything that I said. It was a difficult decision, and I almost, for a moment, considered discharging you." He stood straight (as was possible) again. "Then I realized that I was being an idiot. If I discharged you, Edea would murder me." He laughed heartily. "And as for you not belonging in your own seat—I doubt you ever wanted to be bogged down with the ambassadorial work you have been enduring. Still a SeeD commander, yes, and I doubt you'll ever be one-upped in authority—we'll talk about your rank later. For now you should focus on leading your men, Squall. Your strength is in leadership and ingenuity, not politics." He spat the last word as if it were poisoned. 

Still recovering from his shock and only now beginning to feel some sort of relief, Squall had not been able to remove the childish look of surprise from his face. "If…no, wait a second, before now, how did you know?"

"Don't ever say I don't pay attention to my students." The headmaster's smile broadened such that it threatened to stretch off the edges of his face. "Even when you're deep in thought, you do not lack attention to your surroundings. Ah, but when you are speaking with _her,_" Cid tapped his finger twice against the side of his head, "you do not even notice that someone is speaking to you unless they tap you on the shoulder and shout 'hey man! Are you alive in there? Earth to Squall, do you read?'" 

Squall managed a nervous smirk. _Zell…Goddamn you, you'll hear about this…if I can keep from laughing when I tell you. _Slowly regaining his Squall-ish frame of mind, he relaxed his stance somewhat and folded his arms.

"Nevertheless," Cid stepped forward, offered his hand in apology. "I am sorry if I frightened you at the start of this meeting." To his surprise, Squall took the proffered hand. "As much as I do not want to see you hurt, Squall Leonhart, it is important that you understand the implications of your decision. And," he added with a wry smile, "the look on your face was _absolutely _priceless." He winked.

Squall's smirk reluctantly melted into a faint smile of his own, and he snatched his hand away. "You're cruel," he growled without menace, pointing at Cid as he said so.

At this Cid closed his eyes and chuckled, again clasping his hands habitually behind his back and standing so _straight _he almost bent slightly backward. "Of _that _I'm well aware. I'm certain that isn't _all _I've been called, but I'll let students gripe about my unnecessary harshness."

"So you do conspire to make the students' lives miserable. I'll remember that." Squall did recall numerous occasions in past years when he'd listen to his classmates gripe about similar aspects of Cid's kind, but very stern nature.

"Yes, yes, but that is a secret between you and me, understand? On pains of unemployment."

Squall raised an eyebrow. "Yes, sir." 

Laughing again, Cid made a shooing motion with his hands. "Go on, get out of this stuffy place. I have waiting just such a student to terrify with one of my lectures."

Squall started to leave, stopped, and, though it wasn't necessary, gave his salute to Headmaster Cid, who returned it without comment. The so demoted SeeD then turned and walked for the door, which opened for him. He'd only just passed through it when a sudden thought came to him (not by his own design). He stuck one foot in the door so it wouldn't close and pushed said door open enough to lean back into the office. "Sorry," he started out by apologizing. "We…I almost forgot. Can I keep my quarters?" If Cid had ever seen a sheepish look on Squall's face, this was it. 

"By all means, by all means," he intoned. "Ah, but under one condition." 

"Yeah…?"

"Relinquish 'Rinoa's' room. It's a waste of your salary, and I'm certain someone else will make better use of it."

Squall paled again.

Cid fought to keep from laughing aloud. "Don't think we haven't noticed."

"Whatever." It was a weak defense, and this time Cid did laugh.

"Might as well admit it, Squall. The door to her room hasn't budged in months."

With a sigh and not a little red in the cheeks, Squall shook his head. "Oh, man…" He put his hand to his face and left the still smiling headmaster's office before he could further embarrass himself.

Cid stood where he was, staring at the closed door after Squall had vanished behind it. Once more, he shook with a chuckle, slowly turned and walked back to his desk.

*~~~*


End file.
